The Ilium Obligation (A Matt Savage Adventure) Chapter 44

[seymoure]

More than Enough Loose Ends

 

“The rules of morality

are not the conclusion of our reason.”
-David Hume

 

“We had men who lined up to be involved in this one,” Rusty told me. “This woman has made some real enemies in the last few weeks.”

“The stunning ones always think they are beyond the law,” I pontificated.

“Hey,” he told me, “she’s been at this for years, but never gave anyone a single clue to catch her on until now. She did her contracts, policed the scenes and moved on.”

“Why did she get sloppy?”

“Who knows?” He was truly without an idea. “After years of making us look like morons, she was dropping clues right and left. Maybe it was the nearness of such huge amounts of money.”

“It can have that kind of effect on people,” I agreed. “Getting so close to the big payoff can fog your judgment. It’s like a feeding frenzy; getting at it is more important than anything else.”

An agent approached us. “Special Agent Butler, we’re about to turn her over; do you want to say anything to her?”

Rusty nodded and walked me out.

“Turn her over?” I asked.

“Interpol has the earliest warrant,” he explained to me. “They had the case against her from the murder of a . . .” he looked at the papers that had been handed to him, “Victor Malvito well before we put in any other paperwork. But don’t worry, we’ll get her soon.”

“Malvito was part of this case, too,” I said. “So it’s all part of the same thing. He actually was my second client, if you count Anderson and Gaspion as a single client.”

“Oh, the New York office has those two,” he chuckled. “They tried to do a bit of fraud to get more information about the investigation.”

“Will you keep them?”

“Doubtful; they’re pretty slick and well-connected. Mostly what we can do is make them uncomfortable for a couple of days.”

“They took me captive the other day, if you can use that.”

“I’ll write it down, for what it’s worth,” he said and guided me to where Sentalia was being herded into a car. Her henchmen had already been carted away in a paddy wagon.

She looked up at me. I couldn’t tell if what I saw was real vulnerability or another mask on that lovely face.

“I got careless,” she stated, and tears were not far off.

“What happened?” I tried to be really compassionate.

“My father was a bastard,” she said, and I realized the floodgates were opening. “When he died, he left us with $60,000 in gambling debts with people who didn’t care that my brother was in grade school, or that I was a freshman in high school. They didn’t give a damn that my mother was dying of cancer. They said they would kill my little brother if I didn’t come up with the cash.

“I learned pretty soon that I could hold them off with the money I could make on my back. Then I met a Frenchman called ‘The Predator.’ He was the foremost assassin in the world, and he had a penchant for the young ones.

“He said if I wanted to learn he would teach me. I had to go off with him and pay him in kind. It was a deal with the damn devil, but I was willing to make the kind of money he made. Within a year I was a partner, and the year after that he was mysteriously gone and I was gathering my crew. My kid brother is graduating from high school in a couple of months and his college is all paid for, and my mother’s Hospital bills are off his back, too.

“I just saw a chance to erase my past and retire to a life of luxury. I had been hungry so long that I got stupid.”

I felt truly sorry for her, until I remembered that she was suspected in dozens of murders, including a trio of “trouble-making” nuns in Costa Rica.

As they drove her off, Rayleen and Hugo came around the corner with unforgivably large smiles on their pusses.

“Hey, don’t get too relaxed,” I told them. “This case isn’t over yet. We need to go by the college and see what Gerald has on that box and the note. We have 5 kidnapped people to find before someone finds out that the competition has diminished.”

“So she didn’t know anything?” Hugo asked, indicating Sentalia’s trail going away from us.

“She knew less than we do,” I said with no triumph, “if that is possible.”

© C. Wayne Owens
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